


the truth will set you free

by dejame



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, dakota sky au, mj is a bad guy, peter is a hero, peter is nineteen mj is seventeen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 13:40:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19813450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dejame/pseuds/dejame
Summary: As far as MJ's aware, there are three requirements to being a superhero:1. Have Super Powers (kind of an obvious)2. Use Said Powers For Good; and3. Defeat Your Arch-NemesisHowever, MJ's own powers aren't very super, she's never been much of a "Good Person," and she's severely lacking in the arch-nemesis department—until she meets Peter Parker.





	the truth will set you free

Michelle Jones has superpowers. This does not make her a superhero, however.

As far as she's concerned, there are three basic requirements to being a, quote "superhero" unquote. They are as follows:

  1. Have powers (kind of a given)
  2. Use Said Powers For Good
  3. Defeat Your Arch-Nemesis



She's not a hero. Her powers are not powerful. She does not use them for anything in particular. She has no arch-nemesis (at least not yet anyway).

So she's probably the bad guy.

As far as Michelle's concerned, there are a few basic requirements for being a Bad Guy. They are as follows:

* * *

**1\. An Origin Story**

* * *

Michelle is ten years old when her mother develops pancreatic cancer. Two years later, when Michelle's in her mother's hospital bedroom and staring out at Charleston's pathetic excuse for a skyline, her father steps out of the room to discuss something on the phone and her mother starts whisper-yelling.

She's like, "Michelle, this is serious." Which isn't totally necessary. Her mother is hooked up to several machines and bags, and she cannot urinate without assistance. By this point of the sickness, Michelle's learned to absorb every word from her mother's mouth with the utmost consideration. She frequently considers documenting them, in fact, just to make sure she'll have proof of her mother's last ones. Her mother says, "Something runs in the family. Something like a magic trick." She says, "I didn't want to tell you until you were older, or at least until it kicked in, but I don't have much time left."

Michelle says, "You don't know that, Mom."

"I do." Her mother rolls her eyes, and Michelle can tell that it takes a lot of effort. "It'll happen soon. Mine started at fourteen."

"What started?"

"It's only the girls. I never told your father."

"What started, Mom?"

She says, "No one can lie to us. No one can lie to us and get away with it."

Michelle, who absorbs every word from her mother's mouth with the utmost consideration, asks, "What am I supposed to do with that?"

Her mother replies, "Whatever you want."

And she dies a week later.

Mr. Jones becomes a very busy man. He works nights and takes planes and leaves money in the cookie jar with notes that always start with "Michelle, I will be gone tonight" and end with "there's money in the cookie jar. - Dad."

Michelle becomes a very lonely young woman. She gets the magic trick at thirteen. It is insane how frequently people lie. It'll flow so easily from their mouths, like a lullaby, but all Michelle can hear is an off-key rendition of the truth. She corrects them at first but the results are disastrous. It is insane how frequently people prefer lying to the truth.

No, your daughter did not do her homework.

Yes, your boyfriend is cheating on you.

Sorry, your father will not move back in.

Needless to say, she loses friends very quickly. This brings us to requirement number two.

* * *

**2\. A Cohort, Sidekick, or Hench-person  
**

* * *

The only childhood friend to carry over into her high school career is Betty Brant, majorly due to the fact that the girl is a bit of an outcast herself. Betty gets her first internship at fourteen years old and has an IQ of 157. Her teachers actively urge her parents to let her skip a few grades or to at least induct her into homeschooling.

"But they don't want me to be maladjusted. They think I need to be around kids my own age." Betty tells this to anyone who'll listen. (That's Michelle. Michelle is the only one who will listen.) "It's ironic because now the entire class hates me."

There are several days of freshman year when Michelle finds her only friend in the bathroom after having recently been given a swirlie. Betty would turn on the hand-dryer over her wet clothes, look to Michelle with tears in her eyes, and say, "No one likes a know-it-all."

Which is entirely true. Michelle does not like Betty Brant. Betty Brant is annoying and aggravating and she is, essentially, Michelle's superpower personified. Many of Betty's declarative sentences start with "actually" or "no offense, but" or "in reality."

They're not friends because Betty tells the truth or anything. Betty lies like everyone else.

They're friends because the "actually" and the "no offense" and the "realities" give Michelle a break. Before her lie detector can cut on, in swoops Betty Brant with her straight blonde hair and her waxy headband and her Good Will-purchased blazer.

History class is especially helpful. Mr. Wexler will be droning on about some racist bullshit and Betty's hand will jet into the air. He doesn't even call on her anymore. She just goes off.

"Christopher Columbus didn't discover America. This is easily disproved by the fact that people were already living here when he arrived."

"Thomas Jefferson raped his slaves."

"The United States placed Japanese, Italian, and German American descendants into concentration camps during World War II."

It's a much-appreciated buffer. Finally, the lullaby plays and there is peace. In these moments, the world is so quiet Michelle is sure she could hear a butterfly flap its wings from a hundred miles away. Life is so calm that she understands why a person _wouldn't_ be evil, wouldn't be some overly conscious bad guy stand-in.

But then Betty stops talking, usually because someone's chucked a spitball in her general direction. The lie detector buzzes back to life and Michelle pops enough hydroxyzine to sleep through the rest of the school day.

She's appreciative, so she listens to Betty cry in the bathroom and accepts Betty's birthday invitations. They're friends. However, Michelle is not a good friend, obviously, because every villain must also contain:

* * *

**3\. A Capacity For Evil**

* * *

This reveals itself sophomore year and, in Michelle's eyes, solidifies her place as a certified, bona-fied Bad Person and Shit Friend.

Betty's internship (a journalism non-profit that sends her around town) leads her to the Medical University of South Carolina to watch future doctors-in-residence train and jot down whatever nerdy things they have to say. Michelle is forced to tag along because she can't think of an excuse fast enough when Betty asks.

On the ride there, Betty declares, "Colleges care about this kind of thing." Michelle's lie detector goes off and she unceremoniously begins banging her head on the passenger window. "It's gonna look great on your Common Application. I swear." Her lie detector assures her Betty truly believes nothing will look great on Michelle's Common Application. Her lie detector translates Betty as _It's gonna be the only thing on your Common Application_.

The whole thing makes her a bit resentful and a little angry and so, when Betty is staring at an in-training clinical pharmacist with stars in her eyes, Michelle stands in a way she knows makes her look older than she is. She pulls up her jeans and removes her ponytail holder to tie up her shirt. She shoots up, walks away from the group, and gets his number.

He's actually kind of funny.

He's a pretty shit liar. Like, more than average. He blushes and looks around a lot and stutters.

Cute.

She has no idea why she sleeps with him. She has no idea why she sleeps with anyone. When she was fourteen, Brad Davis lied and told her he loved her, and she fucked him in the backseat of his mother's 2015 Camaro anyways. It was her first time.

All men lie, she reasons. All men kind of suck. They have sex with you or they cheat on you or they leave money in a cookie jar every week and think that counts as parenting. You know one of them, you pretty much know all of them. It's the same with sex.

She wakes up in the pharmacist's crappy apartment. She asks him to drive her home and sighs when she sees Betty has texted her 23 times and left 4 voice messages. The distress must show on her face because Pharmacist Guy gets super nervous.

"You're eighteen, right?"

She says, "The age of consent in South Carolina is sixteen."

He says, "You're not making this better." But he's lying. He's very happy about this news. Michelle leans back on her elbows.

"You already slept with me," she says. And then she tilts her head. "What's your name?"

"You don't even know my name?"

"What, you know mine?"

"You're _Michelle_ ," he stresses. "And you're a kid."

"I'm sixteen."

"I'm eighteen," he says and she rolls her eyes. But her detector doesn't go off.

She says, "We met at a college."

"I skipped three grades." _Jesus,_ she thinks. _Another know-it-all._ "Do you want breakfast?" he asks. She does, but not with him. "Let me buy you breakfast, Michelle. To say sorry." He is not sorry, her detector reads. He very much enjoyed having sex with her. He very much wants to do it again.

Michelle's phone rings. It's Betty.

Michelle lies, "I'd love to get breakfast with you.

The unfortunate thing is that Ned Leeds, the Queens-born, uber-smart, studying clinical pharmacist, is actually really fucking cool. He's nice and he's sweet and he's funny. He lies to make her feel better more than he lies to help himself. _Michelle, you don't need good grades. Michelle, you'll fix your relationship with your dad. Michelle, you're totally getting better at chess!_

When they have sex, Ned says "I love you" and it corrects itself to, "I think you're very cool."

She takes what she can get.

However, Betty does not go away. Betty still gets shoved into toilets and still has entire leftover cakes from birthday parties.

When Ned picks Michelle up from school, Betty tags along to the car just to ask, "You sure you don't need a ride, 'Chelle?"

And it corrects itself to _I want to work up the nerve to talk to you about this, 'Chelle. You're killing me, 'Chelle. This hot-university-student-thing was supposed to be a one-time occurrence and now I'm getting to know him and he's just as amazing as I initially thought, 'Chelle. You're killing me right now, right where I stand_ _._

Michelle is the bad guy, though, and bad guys do not give up their only shred of happiness for a girl they barely tolerate.

Ned is hers. He watches documentaries with her because she hates movies ( _This is fake_ , her lie detector says over film dialogue.). He drives without the radio on because he knows she hates the Top 40 ( _Taylor Swift is no longer twenty-two._ ). He spends time with her and will say absolutely nothing for hours. It is fantastic. It is peaceful. It is a quiet bliss.

He's given her a gift. For so long, the only quiet she got was from sleep or loneliness. Now he is here and he wants nothing more from her than a kiss and a half.

Screw Betty.

If she wants him so bad, she'll have to fight her for him. And no one's got powers like Michelle. No one can stop her. She is unmatched and undefeated.

Until, of course:

* * *

**4\. A Goal That Comes Under Threat**

* * *

Michelle is in a Waffle House at 2 AM blowing bubbles into her sprite with Ned when Betty marches in. She's entirely red and her usually perfect straight hair is frizzed out and tangled. She slides into the booth and glares directly into Michelle's eyes.

"Where were you?"

"I don't know when you're referring to," Michelle states. "But I was probably right here."

"You were supposed to wait for me after Academic Decathlon."

"I was?" Betty nods. "Why?"

Betty says, "The SAT? I'm tutoring you."

"I'm not taking the SAT," Michelle declares. Betty turns to Ned.

"Please tell your girlfriend to wake the fuck up."

Ned says, "I'm Switzerland."

Betty goes, "Ned took the SAT." Michelle rolls her eyes.

"Ned graduated high school when he was fifteen years old. I can barely stay awake through World History." Michelle is about to continue and Betty, no doubt, is about to reply with something witty when Ned's eyes widen to the size of saucers. He leans up in his seat and he yells,

"Peter!"

The girls turn.

A shorter boy. Lithe. White, brunet, and strong. He's got the biggest smile on his face.

"Ned!" Ned stands from his seat and captures Peter in a giant hug.

He says, "Guys, this is my best friend, Peter." Michelle glares.

"I thought I was your best friend."

Ned says, too quickly, "You are." Translation: _Peter is._ Michelle feels an angry knot tie in her stomach. She looks at Peter. He looks back, all smiles. He's probably made up of unicorns, rainbows, and puppies.

He's like, "I'm Peter Parker. I'm a volunteer from Queens."

Betty asks, "What brings you?" The boys sit down. Before Peter gets a chance to answer, Ned is shooting off more questions.

"When'd you get here? When did you leave? Where are you staying?"

Michelle asks, "When do you go back to Queens?" Peter addresses each question in order. _What a gentleman_ , Michelle thinks.

"I'm here because I missed Ned," he says, which is the truth. "I just got here. I knew I'd find you here when you weren't at your apartment." Ned blushes, guilty. "I left Saturday. And, um, I'll stay with you if you let me."

Ned says, "Of course!"

Peter turns to Michelle and smiles his sweet smile. "I don't know when I'm leaving just yet," he says. It's the truth. The truth sucks. "What's your name?"

"Oh, right," Ned says, and he rolls his eyes at himself. "This is my girlfriend Michelle and her friend... her friend..."

Betty gets the same angry glare as Michelle and bites, "I'm _Betty._ "

"No, yeah, right, sorry." He says, "Betty, this is Betty."

"Any chance I could join you guys to eat?" Peter situates himself comfortably by Ned's side. "I only ate snacks on the road. I'm starving."

"Sorry, I have to get home," Michelle lies. "Curfew." She gives Ned a look. He frowns.

"Can't Betty drive you?" he asks. "Please? I'll make it up to you later." Michelle seethes. Peter offers a hand. Betty shakes it. He offers it to Michelle as well.

"It's nice to meet you," he says, and it is the truth. Of course, it is.

"You too," she lies. "Bye, babe." Ned kisses her cheek and they part.

Her plan is to confront him. Be the clingy girlfriend. Ned would fall for it. He likes her and cares about her and wants to make her happy. Of course his girlfriend of ten months—almost a year!—doesn't want him wandering off now that he's got a buddy from his old life back in town.

Ned doesn't pick her up at school the next day.

Betty asks, "Do you need a ride?" Translation: _Are you ready to discuss how you intentionally broke my heart?_

A low-riding car pulls up to the curb. The window rolls down and Michelle prepares herself for a cat-call, but it's Peter.

He's like, "Ned sent me to pick you up. Class is running over time." Michelle looks between her options. Peter or Betty? She doesn't want a guilt trip. She opens the door to Peter's car.

They ride in silence for a few moments and then Peter reaches for the volume.

"Don't," Michelle says.

Peter's like, "Don't what?" with this innocent, dopey voice. Michelle crosses her arms and glares out the window.

"No, do what you want," she says. "It's your car." She doesn't even need to look at him to know he's smiling.

"Okay, all right," he says. "No music." The world starts to quiet down and Michelle lets her head fall back. She loves silence. She absolutely loves it. "How'd you meet Ned?" _Jesus Christ._

"He doesn't talk about me?"

Peter shrugs. "Not really."

"Then he must not want you to know."

"No, he probably just didn't want me to feel bad," Peter says. "We haven't lived far away from one another before."

"Yeah, my boyfriend does seem really into you." Michelle eyes him. "Are you fucking him?" The car swerves a bit.

"No! What?"

"Have you ever fucked Ned?"

"No." Peter laughs. "Not my type."

"So you have a type." Michelle narrows her eyes. "Do you have someone back in New York? Someone who makes you happy and horny and... hungry?" That makes him laugh again.

"Um, kind of, yeah. I had, like, a half-girlfriend."

"What is a half-girlfriend?" She's surprised by how genuinely she wants to know.

"It's like we'll try to do couple stuff but we half-ass it because we're clearly better as friends."

"Why'd it end?" she asks. Peter tries to feign an aura of mystery, but he is a clear open book, so he fails. "You said 'had' as in past tense."

Peter nods and his open book begins to close. She can see it in his face, see his jaw tensing and his eyes clouding over. She thinks, _Here it comes._ The Lie.

"Um," Peter says. "My boss passed away a little while ago. And we were really close. He was a great guy. And Gwen—my half-girlfriend—just kind of knew. We both did. It just really puts it into perspective when you lose someone you never thought you could lose. It's like, 'Oh, yeah, this life thing I'm doing is temporary. I'm going to leave my favorite people or my favorite people are going to leave me. I should make sure I'm appreciating everything enough.'" These words stick themselves into Michelle's chest. These words are not lies. She looks forward at the road.

"You said that like it was universal. It wasn't."

Peter scoffs. "My bad," he says, and that's it. They don't talk for the rest of the ride.

When Ned drops her off that night, Peter rides in the back seat so they can hang out later. Ned kisses her goodbye and Peter jumps into the passenger seat as soon as she's out of the car. He offers a fist. She lamely taps it back for Ned's sake.

"What are you guys doing tonight?" she asks.

"Probably just gonna stop and get something to eat." A lie.

"Don't stay up too late. You've got that test, remember?"

Ned laughs. "Hello, Kettle? This is Pot calling." Michelle flicks him off. "I'll be fine. I'll pick you up tomorrow. I promise." He's lying about being fine, but he truly intends to drive her tomorrow, so she leaves him be. The next morning, when she asks him what he did last night, he says, "We just went to Waffle House." and it is a lie.

She's like, "Is that all?"

He's like, "Yeah." Translation: _There were drunk, pretty girls that we met in the parking lot, but they just laughed at us and left to smoke weed._ Michelle narrows her eyes. Fair enough.

He drops her off and she says, "Don't send Peter back here." He says nothing, only finger guns her, and her detector still goes off. Men are useless.

Peter picks her up again, of course. He intentionally turns on the radio once she's in the car.

"What'd you guys do last night?" she asks.

"Went to Waffle House. Met some drunk college girls in the parking lot. They figured out how young we were and laughed in our faces and then they went off to go smoke."

"Jesus," Michelle says, because _wow_. Peter misinterprets her.

"Don't worry, Ned was very faithful."

"I know that," she huffs. The radio plays and her brain throbs in her head. She wants to take a pill, but she doesn't want Peter to see it and ask about it and exist in her presence. So she closes her eyes and tries to fall asleep naturally, but it doesn't work. Peter turns off the music. She opens one eye.

"Do you know any place around here that's just... calm?" he asks. Michelle shakes her head. "I didn't even know people cared about South Carolina. No offense to you."

Michelle says, "I didn't build South Carolina."

He nods. "Very true." He continues, "There are tourists. Actual tourists. I thought I'd escaped, but no. Everywhere I turn, someone is waiting to ask me for directions."

"You just asked me for directions," Michelle points out. He nods like she's said something profound.

"So no quiet places?" he asks again. She shrugs. "Unfortunate. Sometimes I just want to drive and drive until—I just got the craziest déjà vu." Michelle says nothing. Peter shakes his head as if clearing out a memory. "Woah, that is crazy. You know, this keeps happening when I'm with you. It's like, I don't know, it just feels like I've done this before or something. Like I know you. I even thought that when we first met, but I was like, 'No, obviously, you don't know her. How could you know her?' You know?"

"I don't," she says.

"Okay," he says.

Every day Michelle begs Ned to stop sending Peter and every day he lies and does it anyway. Betty walks her to his car after the final bell, makes some plea for one-on-one girl time, and says, "Hey, Peter. Bye, Peter."

Peter still plays the radio, but he lowers the volume. Compromise.

Eventually, he asks, "Do you not like music or something?" Michelle shrugs. "You don't talk much, do you?"

"You talk enough for the both of us." That makes him laugh.

"Do you have anything to say?" he asks.

"What do you mean?"

"What I said." She shakes her head. Peter taps his fingers on the steering wheel. "Ned and I tried to start up a band after we graduated high school. It was exactly as bad as you think." Michelle snorts. "So if you don't like this music, you'd probably hate ours."

She says, "I like poems." She didn't even know that about herself, but she realizes it's true once it's out.

"Which poems?" he asks. She shrugs. "Well, songs are just poems set to music, right?"

She shakes her head. Says, "It's inauthentic."

Peter smiles. "So you're a hipster. I should've known." She glares at him.

"You were in a high school band with your best friend. That trumps disliking music."

To defend himself, Peter goes, "I quit the band, actually, when I realized how cliche it was." To continue their conversation, he asks, "What about classical music?"

"You mean, like, music without lyrics?" He nods. She is the stupidest person on the planet. "I never really thought about that." He laughs and shakes his head.

"You're a very interesting person, MJ." And suddenly she has

* * *

**5\. An Alter Ego**

* * *

MJ is not Michelle nor 'Chelle nor Em. This is a new person altogether.

MJ likes poetry and thinks about classical music and can't tell if she's flirting with her boyfriend's best friend.

They're in Ned's apartment late at night. The weed from Ned's roommate seeps into the living-room and maybe that's what propels Michelle to sit up in her bean bag when Ned leaves to use the bathroom. She eyes Peter reading on the couch and goes,

"Do you watch porn?" Because obviously she's got to make this man lie. It's freaking her out. Why won't he lie? Just lie already. _What are you hiding, Peter?_ she thinks.

He doesn't even blush when he says, "Yeah."

"Really?" she asks and he nods. "I saw some the other day that was just gross. Like, it was insanely racist and misogynistic and no doubt directly influential in the mishandling of several real-life sexual experiences."

Peter's like, "Well, I don't doubt it. Porn's functional but men are usually mistaught how to navigate it properly." Michelle thinks, _What the fuck?_

Michelle asks, "What?"

Peter nods. "Because cis men aren't truly taught about sex more as we're forced upon it with this possessive mentality."

Michelle says, "Right."

"So obviously porn wouldn't help that."

"You said it's functional."

"Functional, like it's used to serve a purpose. But because of the misinformation, it also affects the subconscious."

"And you watch this porn, you say?"

"I do."

"How much?"

"A healthy amount." Peter says, "You've never talked to me for this long before."

"So you're a feminist?"

"I try to be, yeah."

"And you watch a healthy amount of porn."

"I believe so."

"Are you proud of that?"

"I just know I'm not ashamed of it," Peter says. "I like to think it doesn't negatively affect me, but it must, right? Because everything does that more or less." Peter looks at her and Michelle looks at him and she does not need a lie detector to tell her that he's totally thinking about having sex with her right now.

She's probably just as transparent; she's kind of thinking about it, too.

They're staring and staring at one another so intensely that it takes a moment for Michelle to realize how quiet it is.

It is so quiet. It is so quiet she almost wants to cry. She is so aware of her heart beating in her chest, of it's thumping. It is the only noise in the galaxy, that and Peter's breathing. Two signs of life in all the Milky Way.

Ned falls asleep on the toilet. Peter drives her home.

He doesn't talk until he pulls up to her driveway. She sits there for a moment, awkward.

"Thanks for the ride," she says.

"No problem," he says. And as she gets out the car, he shakes his head. "God, it happened again."

"Déjà vu?" she asks.

"Yeah. I've just seen you move that way before. Like, standing up from a seat... but there's... snow." He must realize how lame it is as he finishes. Michelle raises her eyebrows.

"Okay, then." She closes the door and walks across her lawn, and she can hear the movement behind her, but she thinks nothing of it until Peter yells.

"I have to tell you something," he hollers. She turns around and his eyes are wide as if he's startled by the sound of his own voice.

"What?"

"Nevermind," he says.

"Fuck!" she cries. "I hate when boys do that. You just want me to ask you what it is and make you feel like you have value."

"No, I just can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"Because it's bad." Michelle turns back to her house. Peter says, "I want to tell you that I found a quiet place and that it's the beach but only at night. I want to tell you that it's great there and that I want to go with you right now." She turns around. "I want you to just, like, get back in my car—I love picking you up. I love driving you. I really like my car when you're in it—and I just wanna drive you to this beach or to anywhere or maybe nowhere. Like, I just wanna drive with you and keep driving."

He says, "I want to tell you that I like you, but I know how messed up that is because I love Ned. I _love_ Ned, but I still want you to tell him to fuck off. And that's possessive, and I know you don't like toxic masculinity, but I look at you and I want so much that I think it'd be really unfair to keep it from you. I want to tell you about my mom. And I know you don't know me, but that's big for me. But I want to tell you everything just to get the chance to spend more time with you or just to get the chance to have you tell me anything about you. I really want to know you."

Michelle stares at him. He gasps. "I can't tell you that, can I?"

She says, "You can't, no."

"I'd really appreciate it if you didn't tell Ned I said all that."

"How can I?" Michelle says. "You didn't tell me anything."

She leaves him there on the street.

She only realizes how much she wants to see him again when Ned picks her up in the morning. He kisses her cheek as she slides into the car and apologizes for falling asleep in the bathroom last night. He's talking and talking about things she does not care about and so she asks, "How's Peter?"

"He's fine." Ned shrugs. "I think he's hung up on some girl back home, though. He's got this sad look on his face."

"Sucks for him," Michelle says. But this doesn't satisfy her. MJ is prodding at her brain, begging for more information. She asks, "How long have you known Peter?"

"Oh, since forever. We were always the only people our age at science conventions."

"What kind of music did you guys play? In your band?"

Ned scoffs. "Peter didn't play in the band. He sucked." Michelle's insides curl.

"What?" she asks.

"Yeah, the neighborhood kids and I kicked him out after the first practice." Her detector does not go off.

She says, "Tell me you love me."

He's like, "I do love you." _I think you're super cool._ He watches her in his peripheral vision. "What's wrong?"

* * *

** 6\. An Arch-Nemesis  
**

* * *

Who the actual fuck is Peter Parker and why can Michelle not tell when he's lying?

She will not be undone by some volunteer from Queens.

Whatever game he's playing, she can play it, too.

* * *

**7\. A Successful Bout of Madness, Chaos, or General Trickery**

* * *

The next time Peter picks her up from school, he doesn't look her in the eye. Michelle says no to Betty, declines her invitation for a ride home, and transforms into MJ right in front of the Midtown High School inhabitants. She gets into Peter's car and says, "Okay."

"What?" he asks.

"You can drive me anywhere you want today." She expects for him to have a moment of hesitation, for him to look her deep in the eyes and ask something along the lines of _Are you sure?_ or _Do you know what you're saying right now?_ Instead, he fucking floors it.

"The beach isn't cool until it gets dark," he says. "So we'll just have to drive around a bit." She realizes he's playing the classical station on the radio. She thinks, _Fuck off._

"Why are you in South Carolina?" she asks.

"I wanted to visit Ned."

"Anything else?"

"No, not really."

"You said you thought you knew me when we first met." She watches him closely, looking for any natural signs of lies. How fast is he breathing? How often is he blinking? What are his hands doing? Is he avoiding eye contact?

She gets nothing. Absolutely no read on him whatsoever.

Peter says, "No, it just _felt_ like I knew you."

"What do you mean by that?" He's so excited. He's so happy she's playing along. She glares at him.

"No, I don't even know!" He looks so happy she wouldn't be surprised if he started jumping up and down in his seat. "Like, I dreamed about you last night."

"What happened?"

"I came home—like, New York home—and you were waiting for me with a duffel bag of your clothes. And we don't say anything to each other. I just unlock the door and let you in." He says, "You know, I don't think about you like I thought about Gwen. Like, I was obsessed with her and I thought about her every day. And then I met you and you just, like, still me. And I've been trying to find that in other places. That's how I found this beach. But when I get there, I can't even really enjoy it because I'm like, 'MJ would love this. I should be with MJ right now.'"

"Why do you like me?" she asks.

Immediately: "You just make me vibrate."

"Vibrate?"

"Like right out of my skin. I really like talking with you. I mean, I haven't ranted like this since Mr. Stark died."

"Mr. Stark was your boss?"

"Mm-hm." She writes this on her skin. "Are you hungry? Early dinner. I'll pay." They choose Waffle House again. When he eats, Peter can't talk, so it's quiet again. MJ's heart and Peter's breathing and the sound of fork hitting plate.

"When did these déjà vu bits startup, exactly?"

Peter swallows and says, "When I met you." He says, "Tell me something about you. Anything."

"I don't like Betty." He doesn't say anything back. He's waiting for her to continue. MJ says, "She's my friend, but she annoying and nice and she's too nice to me. I'm awful to her."

"You can't be that bad or else she wouldn't be so kind to you," Peter says once she's done.

"You don't know what I did," MJ says.

Peter asks, "What'd you do?"

"I stole her boyfriend," MJ says. Peter frowns. "You make me still, too. My life is really loud and then when I'm with you it gets very quiet."

"Do you feel it?" he asks. He holds out his hand and she thinks he wants to hold hers or something, but he doesn't. His hand hovers right above the table and just shakes and shivers. The small hairs on his arm stand up.

MJ raises her pointer finger and taps him. He stops vibrating. He stills. She stills him.

They go to the beach now. It's their thing. And they don't kiss. That's not their thing. She holds his hand to still the shaking and he leads the way to keep the world quiet. A symbiotic relationship.

Betty is starting to notice. MJ finds her in the bathroom again and instead of crying, Betty looks up at her and asks, "Do you like Peter?" Michelle shrugs. "I just can't tell. Like, sometimes I think you think he's cool and then sometimes I think you find him annoying. It's like how you are with me."

Michelle asks, "What?"

"Like, sometimes you don't like me." Betty says, "It's fine." _It hurts my feelings._

"Why are you my friend even though I'm such a bitch to you?"

"You're not a bitch." _You are kind of a bitch, yeah._

"Why?" Michelle asks again. "You don't have to be friends with someone just because they stay. That shouldn't be, like, a primary motive. Anyone can stay just like anyone can leave."

"Michelle, really? Are we doing this now?" That's the truth. She's genuinely asking.

"Just say what you've been trying to say to me for the past year. I stole Ned from you."

"You didn't _steal_ Ned from me. You can't steal people." Her lie detector almost pops up but then: "Unless, of course, you kidnap them."

"But I knew you liked him and I went after him anyway." Betty shrugs. "You aren't mad?"

"I'm—broken." The waterworks start up. "Like, it sucks, whatever, but I miss you. You're always with him or with Peter and you leave me. I just want to be with you more." MJ blinks. "Are you going to say anything?"

"Come to my house tonight," she says. "We'll study for the SAT."

They don't study. Betty studies and Michelle watches her, bored. It's unfortunate, but it's the reality. Michelle must withstand the bad for a sliver of good. Unless she's with Peter, of course. Peter is so quiet and loud all at once.

Betty says, "Peter?" And Michelle gets worried that she's been thinking aloud. "Is that Peter outside?" She forgot to tell him. No beach today.

Michelle goes to the door and opens it a crack.

Peter's like, "Why weren't you at school? Are you sick?"

"No. I'm with Betty."

"Oh," Peter says. "Okay. You didn't tell me."

"I didn't."

"Are you mad at me?"

"No."

"I can't tell if you're lying."

"Welcome to the club," Michelle says, and she closes the door. Betty is there when she turns around.

"Oh, my God," she says. "You like Peter?" _How could you cheat on Ned?_

"I'm not cheating on Ned."

"I didn't say you were," Betty says, and Michelle rolls her eyes. "What are you gonna do?" _Are you going to break up with Ned?_

"Studying is over," Michelle says, and she closes Betty's textbook.

Peter calls her that night. It turns out Mr. Stark left shares of his company to Peter in his will. He has to go back home.

"Okay," Michelle says. "Bye." And she hangs up the phone. And she cries into her pillow for thirty whole minutes. On the thirty-first minute, her doorbell rings. It's Peter. Of course, it's Peter.

"I realize it's inappropriate to show up at your house, but I wasn't done talking and you weren't picking up your phone," he begins as soon as she opens the door. "I love you." And despite the fact that her eyes are puffy and red and that she so clearly is not on the same page as him, he smiles. He smiles because he's happy. He's just so damn happy. It doesn't even matter that she's suffering and he's winning and she's losing. He's just happy to exist in front of her. He's happy just to tell her.

"Tell me you love me," she says.

He repeats it gladly. She kisses him. She pulls him inside her empty house and kisses him over and over again. He closes the door with his foot. They kiss through the living-room and down the hall and into her room. They kiss on her bed and without his shirt on and then without hers. They kiss until her phone rings and his phone buzzes and they know it's Ned.

 _Have you seen Peter?_ he asks. _Where are you, man?_

He tries to kiss her again, but it's gone now. It's gone. He presses against her side and says, "I love you."

"How do I know?"

"Because I'm telling you."

"But how do I _know_."

"What, you don't believe me?" She's finally landed a blow. She can see the hurt in his eyes.

Would it be better to pretend they were normal and that Peter was just unabashedly, totally honest? Probably. Probably not. She would second guess everything. She would never be sure. He could do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted, and she would never know. Lying is so easy. Being lied to is so easy. Knowing a person is lying hurts, but not knowing hurts more.

She knows what alone hurts like and she's used to it. She has this house all to herself. She has Ned, and she even has Betty now. She has to take the SAT in a month. Peter asks, "Why don't you believe me?"

"Put on your clothes, Peter," she says. She sits up in bed. "Go home."

* * *

**8\. An Inevitable Defeat**

* * *

The good guys always win. When Peter gets in his low car and drives away, MJ thinks she's won and thus believes she might be good after all.

Peter is sad, but he didn't lose. He isn't a hero or a villain. He's kryptonite. He's a chink in the armor. He's Achilles' heel.

This is soon proven wrong.

She's with Ned, lounging around in his apartment.

Ned's like, "I haven't missed Peter this much since he quit the band," and her lie detector doesn't go off. She narrows her eyes.

"I thought you said you kicked him out. You said he sucked." Ned laughs.

"He did. He did suck." Ned says, "He didn't play with us. He, like, managed us and we gave him a guitar to pretend to play that way they'd let him into music venues with us."

"But you said he quit."

"He did. He didn't like lying to everyone. That's when he started volunteering with Stark."

Michelle says, "Ned, you should have told me this much, much sooner."

He's like, "What?"

MJ says, "I'm breaking up with you."

* * *

She takes her SAT. She bombs it. Her father leaves an angry letter about it with cash in the cookie jar - Dad.

* * *

When prom comes around, she encourages Betty to ask Ned as her date. She does. He says yes.

* * *

In Senior Literature, they read the quote, "Do I not defeat my enemy when I make him my friend?" MJ's lie detector doesn't go off.

* * *

Betty invites her to a graduation party. MJ doesn't go. However, Betty is not left with another left-over cake.

"I fucking love cake," Ned swears, and they devour it together.

* * *

She doesn't go because she has other plans. She gets the address from Ned. She packs her clothes in a duffel bag. She shows up in Queens and stands from Peter's front doorstep in the snow.

He doesn't say anything when he sees her, but he smiles. That happy, dopey smile. He unlocks the door and lets her in.

Her boyfriend can see the future. Weird.

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first spideychelle fic i'm horrified  
> thanks for reading!


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